


I'll Take Care of You

by floofman



Series: Kinktober 2019 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, But only because Dean's sick, Fuck Or Die, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Ritual, Smut, Top Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 12:22:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20874143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floofman/pseuds/floofman
Summary: Dean gets cursed. Sam is understandably upset, and Cas has to save Dean once more. But maybe a little more comes out of the experience?





	I'll Take Care of You

Dean was covered in a thick sheen of sweat, the dehydration and heat leaving him panting. “It-it hurts,” he whined, begging for relief. 

Castiel grimaced and Sam swore. They both looked at each other, hard eyes knowing the solution but not wanting to give in. 

“He’s suffering, Sam,” Cas said, his tone pleading. 

“I know, damn it.” Sam raked a hand through his hair and racked his brain for a different answer, any other way out. “Just, give me some time.”

“We don’t have time!” Cas growled impatiently. 

“Please,” Dean interjected from the cheap motel carpet. “I’ll do anything, just please.”

Sam’s jaw ticked, frustrated at his lack of alternatives. They were the Winchesters, damn it; they always came out on top. Why would this time be any different?

“Sam,” Cas said quietly, willing to be patient. “Take the night off. Go to a bar, get a room to yourself. I’ll fix this and we can hunt the witch tomorrow.”

Did he feel bad for not trusting Cas alone with his brother, Sam asked himself. Or was it more that he couldn’t stand the fact that his brother was cursed and the only cure was--

“Sam, let me fix this.” 

Swallowing heavily, Sam nodded. “Alright, Cas,” he sniffed. “But I swear if anything happens to my brother--”

Cas gave him a tired smile. “I’m aware.”

Nodding again, Sam felt around his pockets. The Impala keys were with him--he had to drive them to the motel-- as were his wallet and phone. “You sure you’ll be fine?”

Dean groaned once more from the floor and Sam got the hint. “Right. See you tomorrow then?”

Cas nodded and walked him out the door. Staring out into the lot, Sam prayed everything would be normal in the morning and he wouldn’t have to think about his brother getting fucked by his best friend. 

<>><><><>

“Cas!” Dean gasped as soon as the door clicked shut. “Please, it hurts so bad.”

“I know, Dean,” the angel replied. Cas shook off his trench coat and loosened his tie as he locked the door and drew the thin curtains shut. “I’m here to help.”

Dean flailed on the carpet in Cas’ direction, a weak attempt to get closer. Cas crouched low, cupping Dean’s cheek and frowned at the flushed skin. Pushing Dean onto his back, he efficiently worked at shedding the many layers Dean always wore. First the beaten-down coat, then a flannel, then a thin T-shirt that was now thoroughly soaked in sweat. Dean cried out in relief as the air conditioning hit his fevered chest. Cas managed a small smile before he began undoing the buttons and zippers on Dean’s jeans. Without much help from Dean, he was able to slip both pants and boxer briefs off in one go. Dean groaned; a small reprieve from the burning within in being free from those restricting layers. 

Unfortunately, a more insistent problem made itself known to both Dean and Cas. Dean’s inflamed, leaking cock was the source of his agony and it was Cas’ job to relieve it, quite literally. If he was right, Cas believed the cure was an orgasm by penetration. Not to be crude or anything. 

Satisfied that Dean could wait a bit longer, Cas stood up and began stripping his vessel of his business-ware. Each clothing item was neatly folded and placed on a twin bed, the one Cas had no intention of using tonight. After noticing the pile of Dean’s clothes, Cas felt it his responsibility to fold them as well, and so he did. 

“Cas, please,” Dean whined. 

Right, Cas thought. No use delaying the inevitable. He walked over to the minibar and found a bottle of water. Dean needs to be hydrated, especially before engaging in any rigorous physical activity, Cas reasoned. And so he moved back to Dean, urging him to sit up straight, and when he managed a position suitable enough, he brought the uncapped bottle to Dean’s lips and coaxed small sips down his throat.

“Better?” Cas questioned.

Dean closed his eyes and gave a grunt of agreement. 

Confident in a response from Dean, Cas tried to broach the topic at hand. “Do you remember what happened earlier today, Dean?”

Dean shot Cas a confused look. Still, Cas persisted. 

“You were cursed by a witch. That’s why you're in pain.” Cas searched for signs of understanding in those emerald green eyes, but they were glossed over; it seemed Dean barely registered Cas’ voice. Yet Cas couldn’t give up in his attempt to get through to Dean. “There is a cure: a ritual. Will you let me help you?”

At that Dean’s eyes flashed. “Help me, Cas. Hurts.”

Cas could almost feel Dean’s pain, the misery evident in his voice, his eyes. “I will, Dean.”

Cas stood up in a smooth motion, grabbing a can of spray paint. He painted the appropriate sigil on the wall above the bed. When he was satisfied, he retrieved Dean, lifted him with some effort, but was able to deposit him onto the bed gently enough. Cas climbed on after him, a bottle of lube in hand. 

And realized he had never performed sexual intercourse. It seemed he was in over his head. 

Even so, there was no other option. Cas would simply need to adapt to save Dean.

“Come on, Dean.” He helped Dean onto his stomach and slid a pillow beneath his hips. 

Dean’s ass lay pert and ready and Cas refused to acknowledge the tightening in his chest. This was about Dean, for Dean. He needed to focus on that: saving Dean. 

Popping open the lube, Cas squeezed what he believed to be a sufficient amount onto his fingers. He rubbed the slick gel between his fingers to warm it up and appease the intrusion. Dean, oblivious to his surroundings, simply lay still, occasionally releasing a cry for help. 

Finally, Cas summoned the courage to begin. Holding Dean open with one hand, Cas found the pink, virgin hole and gently pressed around it. It winked at the unfamiliar feeling, but Cas pressed on. Spreading lube around the hole, he slowly sank one finger into the hot, velvety channel. It was uncomfortably hot, actually. To the point where an ordinary bedmate might be dissuaded to continue; a clever addition to the curse, Cas bemused. Yet Cas was not ordinary, he would go through hell, had gone through hell and back for Dean. With that thought at the forefront of his mind, Cas pushed a second finger in. 

At two, Dean moaned and clenched down. “C-Cas?”

Moving the hand on Dean’s ass to his lower back, Cas petted and shushed him. “You’re going to be fine.”

After pumping two fingers in and out of Dean’s hole, Cas reapplied lube to his fingers and squeezed in a third. The heat was dangerous and Cas sympathized at the torment Dean must be going through. He would be better soon, Cas reassured himself, just a little longer until the curse was broken. 

Cas pulled out his fingers but froze. He couldn’t exactly. . .enter Dean flaccid. Cas frowned, then remembered the story of the babysitter and the pizza man. More importantly, what they did before engaging in sex. The kissed and rubbed. Perhaps that would help his predicament as well as put Dean in the “mood”. 

Sliding next to Dean, Cas whispered. “Would you like to kiss, Dean?”

Dean furrowed his brows, eyes wide at the suggestion as his face flushed nearly purple. “Cas?”

Emboldened by a response, Cas surged forward and captured Dean’s lips. The taste of salt was evident due to Dean’s profuse sweating, and his mouth was concerningly dry. But not even a second after, Dean began moving his lips with Cas’; reciprocating the kiss. Surprised by the tightening in his chest again, Cas felt confident and cupped Dean’s cheek. Dean coaxed his mouth open and their tongues played, if only for a moment. 

A wave of staggering pain hit Dean and he immediately retracted, his jaw clenched and eyes screwed shut. Cas grimaced and ran his hand down Dean’s back. “I’ll take care of you, Dean.”

Moving back to Dean’s bottom, Cas found himself semi-hard, although Dean’s pain certainly put a kink in his arousal. Instead, Cas tried to focus on the kiss and how that made him feel. The chest squeeze and the pooling heat to his groin. 

Re-lubing his fingers, Cas made sure Dean was loose enough to take his cock comfortably. Sitting up on his knees, Cas rolled Dean over, who began panting for breath. His whole body was flushed a deep red and hot to touch. Cas swore, something he didn’t do often but felt the occasion merited it, and resituated the pillow under Dean’s hips. 

“Look at me, Dean,” Cas urged. “Let me know you’re still there.”

Dean only moaned. His cock bobbed against his belly, and even deeper red than his chest and in no way looked healthy. 

Cas, in a rush to cure Dean, lined up his cock with Dean’s fluttering hole and pushed forward. 

Dean cried out in what Cas believed to be pain at first, but the breathy tone cued pleasure. Cas pushed the head past the ring of muscle, entranced by how readily Dean was swallowing him. He slowly thrust deeper and deeper, until he bottomed out. The heat radiating throughout Dean’s insides was not exactly ideal, but the tight channel was amazing. Cas sighed in contentment as he stayed still, but Dean then moved his hips back. 

His eyes were still scrunched up, but his body began to move in time with Cas’, meeting his hips with each thrust and voicing his pleasure. Cas soon fell forward, smashing his lips against Dean’s and moved them fervidly. His hand found Dean’s cock between their stomachs and jerked in tune with their movements. 

The sigil above them began to glow a dark red. With each thrust of Cas’ dick, Dean grew closer, and as if it was connected to his arousal, the sigil burned brighter.

The pace sped up as Cas felt the impending orgasm, and a rational corner of his mind remembered to ensure Dean’s orgasm before his own. Dean whined as he broke away from the kiss, but Cas poured the rest of the lube bottle’s contents onto his hand. In retrospect, it was far more than enough, but Cas was not one for conservation, especially around Dean. He slicked up his hands, without missing a beat as he rammed Dean’s prostate, and grabbed a proper hold of Dean’s cock. It was dripping precome in a steady stream, and along with the excess lube, everything became very wet and sticky very quickly. But whatever Cas was doing, he did right, because a few inexperienced tugs were all it took before Dean arched his back and thrust into Cas’s fist, crying out Cas’ name. The sigil burned bright as streaks of come coated Cas and Dean’s chests. The sensation of Dean clenching down hard on his cock had Cas breathless and soon after he collapsed onto Dean as his cock released its load into Dean’s hole. 

The high of orgasm left Cas blissed out; every muscle in his body was lax. He didn’t come to awareness until Dean grunted under him. Remembering the whole goal of this interaction, Cas darted up. “Dean?”

He was answered with a resonating groan. 

Cas was unsure as to the source of discomfort so he prodded. “Do you feel hot? Are you in pain?”

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean grumbled, pushing himself up only to be hit with a wave of nausea. “Oh, fuck.”

Cas relaxed; the old Dean was back, swearing and kicking. “You should probably sleep. I’ll get you some water.”

Dean nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose. Cas regarded Dean for a moment longer, to persuade himself that Dean was not on the brink of burning from the inside out. Satisfied, he slipped off the bed and ambled back to the minibar. He bent down to grab a second water bottle when he heard a choking sound, then he was up and by Dean’s side in an instant. “Dean?”

Dean coughed into his fist and waved Cas off. A blush dusted his cheeks, a fairer shade from the fever he had just experienced, but Cas was still concerned. He put a hand to Dean’s forehead, to which the man squawked at. “Personal space, dude!”

Cas let out a small laugh. “Dean, we just engaged in sexual intercourse. I’m sure personal space is no longer an issue.”

Dean choked a second time but recovered quicker. His ears turned red, and though Cas was still worried, he refrained from touching. 

“Cas,” Dean said weakly, imploring. “Can we not. . .talk about this right now?”

At the pleading tone, Cas immediately handed over the water bottle. “Of course, Dean. you must be exhausted. You should rest.”

Dean graciously accepted the water bottle and downed half of it in one go, which Cas did not approve of but kept his lips shut. He did feel awkward, however, standing naked in cooling come at the bedside. His chest was beginning to itch and he imagined Dean was experiencing something similar. “Would you like to clean up first?”

Dean looked up and into Cas’ eyes, something indecipherable on his face. It left a fluttering in Cas’ heart, a familiar feeling, but different than the one he experienced when aroused. He was still figuring out all these human sentiments. 

At last, Dean nodded, and Cas hurried to the bathroom. He located a washcloth and wet it in under the sink, then returned to Dean’s side. He decided to offer the rag to Dean rather than wash the semen off himself, all in his attempts to respect Dean’s “personal space”. Dean took the washcloth, thanking Cas, and impatiently wiped his chest clean. Judging by his lack of thoroughness, Cas suspected it was more for show than for personal comfort. Besides, he knew that Dean’s little hole was filled with his own come, but did not comment on it. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” Cas said affectionately. Dean slid under the covers, waving Cas off and muttering a quick “night” in response. 

Cas smiled. It was a great thing to see Dean restored to his healthy self. He glanced at the sigil, which had cooled down to orange embers. The curse was officially lifted. 

Flicking the lights off on his way to the bathroom, Cas washed the cloth off and stared in the mirror. His hair was disheveled and his skin sticky with sweat. But the glow he felt inside him was evident on his vessel, and it was then Cas thought about the future in an optimistic light. Maybe there were things further down the line to look forward to.


End file.
